Reign in Blood is a thoroughly unexpected “repertory” album from Athens, Georgia, improviser Erik Hinds, specialist in the h’arpeggione (which is a 12-string upright acoustic instrument played like a cello but with six sympathetic strings that enable all kinds of textural moves). What’s unexpected is not simply the instrument itself but the fact that the recording consists of the entire epochal Slayer album of the same name. Improvisers under the age of 40 don’t have nearly so many hang-ups about loving (or even—gasp!—drawing on) idiomatic musics as was the case for some earlier generations. Hip-hop, folk, electronica, it’s all fair game. So why not metal? Send up the horns, I say.

I vividly remember the first time I heard the Slayer record. It wasn’t just that it was good (and it still is) but that it had a very unique sound, a total sound that distinguished Slayer from a lot of other generic death and/or thrash metal bands. You knew the sound as soon as you heard it. And the reason I like Hinds’ disc so much is that it’s got a total sound too, an instantly recognizable thumbprint. This comes mostly from his own improvising approach, which is very compelling. First of all, those six sympathetic strings create so much space, particularly when Hinds uses them for a mdringam-like resonation or droning bed. He also thwacks and pummels his instrument’s body for a variety of percussive effects that fit nicely with his frequently chordal playing (though he only rarely incorporates arco, which one might have expected in overload for a Slayer disc).

That gets to what’s really distinct about Hinds’ appropriations—they’re not slavish imitations. He doesn’t attempt to mimic Dave Lombardo’s double kick drum or Tom Araya’s howl or the dissonant guitar onslaught of King and Hanneman. (Although with music this righteous, I’m glad Hinds couldn’t resist digging into that classic breakdown from “Angel of Death”, the ominous “Jesus Saves”, or the menacing percussion intro to “Necrophobic”.) Instead, he preserves some of the feel and the pacing and, most importantly, the drama of the album. In under 30 minutes, Hinds gets the record down pat but does so by investing it with a pretty impressive range of colors and references (some clipped plucking that could flash bluegrass, some trilling that could be as at home in an early music piece as in a moshpit, and a lyricism that one might think totally alien to death/thrash metal). Indeed, his take on “Raining Blood” runs the gamut from trance-inducing psychedelia to punishingly aggressive bowing.

Taken together this is rich, satisfying music. You don’t need to be a Slayer fan to enjoy this record, but if you are you’ll get an extra kick in the pants.